Hello!

So it's been some time since we last talked, hasn't it. That is a bit of a failing on my part, but it is what it is. 

I think I've mostly got myself situated in my current...situation... (need a better word there) 

What's going on now?!

That's the question isn't it. I now find myself at Texas State University - San Marcos. This is where I started my undergraduate career in Physics. I am now back here working on my Masters degree. I would love nothing more than to improve myself enough to be worthy of making a living as an author, but Physics is also my passion. There is something ephemeral about sitting down and trying to figure things out. It's fun. I do plan on taking this to PhD, but that's because I want to actually do it. I'm not being forced to do it.

Things did change to reduce my options to having to attend for my Masters; not getting a job with a Bachelor's in Physics really hurt my options, and I had to leave where I was living in Houston because I simply couldn't afford it because of another change coupled with the no job thing. Now I'm back in the Canyon Lake area attending university. Yup...

How about a big "THANK YOU!" to our parents, eh? They're truly heroes to us all. 

But what about book three?

I've not been able to work on it any. Between moving home, recovering from the unexpected changes, and starting the graduate program, I've just not had the needed drive to sit down and get through it.

This does NOT mean that it won't be written. It's going to be finished. I want to continue the story of Mason and Jacob.

Currently in the works is getting new covers for Time Jump and Eugenic Reprisal. I'm getting paid for working at the university, so I can afford the cover artist that did The Sleeping Man. That cover looks amazing, doesn't it?

I'll be getting those to you when I get them in. I'm also going to be doing some revisions to Eugenic Reprisal and Time Jump to fix some things that have been bugging me as well as you. None of the content will change, but I'm going to do my best to make everything more coherent. If there is anything you'd like me to consider, please let me know here in a comment or on my Facebook!

Moving Forward

Forward from here, I'm also looking at putting together a blog for my Physics classes. I'm taking all of my notes digitally on a Surface Pro 3, so how cool would it be to upload those to a blog for people to perhaps benefit from? I think it'd be pretty cool. But that's just me.

Recent Developments

So I've had some pretty big changes occur in the last 48 hours that is going to impact my workflow for the foreseeable future. I'm going to do my best to stick to my self-imposed deadlines, but we'll have to see what happens.

I'm uncertain how things are going to pan out for me, so I just ask that y'all be patient and work with me as I work through this.

Guest Post: Matthew Young - What drives your creative process?

So how is everybody doing this Good Friday?

I told y'all that I would have a guest post coming from Matthew Young in the coming days, and here it is! I asked Matthew, "What drives your creative process?"

It's a pretty important question to ask as far as I'm concerned because that is what really makes the difference when telling a story. Where do your ideas come from? How do they morph and adapt to meet new things that you didn't think of at the time of original outlining? Let's go ahead and read his response, and afterwards, I'll have a link to his new book, AWAKEN.

***

One of the toughest things for new writers is coming up with ideas. 

For me, it’s always the easiest part. I don’t have a set process, but I am very meticulous when it comes to tracking any ideas I have. I have a lot of them and they come from everywhere. When I first started out, most of my ideas came from other books. I carry around a notepad and sometimes a voice recorder to make sure I don’t forget things.

Just remember that reading is important. You can never read too much. There are billions of good ideas out there, but most of them have been used already. If you’re not well read, you might have the coolest idea ever, write a superb novel, and then find out that you just wrote another version of Twilight. The concept has sold well many times already, so the odds of another retelling of the mythical-monster-falls-in-love-with-girl-for-some-inexplicable-reason story being successful yet again are not good. And if you read a lot, you would know that it’s not a viable storyline anymore.

The same is true with television. Tons of ideas out there, you need to be aware of them and make sure that what you’re doing is original. People say there are no new ideas out there. The truth is, a lot of concepts are old. This doesn’t mean that you can’t tell them in a new way. That’s where writing gets hard! 

The first scene in my book Awaken, I “stole” from the end of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. It’s one of my favorite movies ever and I thought it would be a cool place to begin. But not to copy.

Awaken was a mixture of a lot of different ideas. It started out as a Western and just a Western. It was about 20 pages long at first and that was it. Then I started getting into horror writing, so I added some scarier elements, added a psychotic criminal, and was happy when I hit 40 pages and had a complete story. It was pretty original, I thought. And that version of the story still might be. There are not a lot of writers out there that combine serial killers with the traditional Western. But it wasn’t enough for me.

There’s a scene, just before my main character realizes that his perception of the world is wrong, where he climbs up something unsavory to escape. This was an original idea of mine, but this wasn’t where I first put it. The same thing happens in my first published short story, “Freak Magic,” where a slave boy with super powers is sent into a mine as punishment. I wrote it, but it was something that I had thought of several years before I put it into Awaken.

I get a lot of ideas from dreams, too. I have a good ability of recalling details from dreams, and for the longest time, I kept dream journals. These ended up getting too interfering, though. I would spend 30 minutes or more every morning writing down every detail. Each morning, I could easily fill up a few pages. It was too much, and I had to teach myself to stop. I started getting more sleep, too! Anyway, characters from my dreams often find their way to my stories.

Character names are hard for me. For Awaken, I named my main character after my best friend from college: Jon. Other character names stemmed from the Bible. James and Paul--the kids in the story--were named after two writers in the New Testament. I did this on purpose and it’s an important part of the book. No one is perfect. Everyone does a lot of bad things. Jon is my hero here, but in the first scene of the book, you see him kill a couple guys in cold blood. He has no good reason to do this, but he kills them anyway. Yet, by the end of the book, he’s a much different person. His awakening is not only physical when he realizes that he’s not who he thought he was (it starts a Western, but Awaken is definitely science fiction!), but it’s also subtly spiritual, too. This isn’t Christian Lit--there’s swearing, drinking, murder, torture, and a lot of other stuff--but it does touch upon how people can change--which is a major theme within the Bible.

Ideas come from everywhere. You need to latch onto them when they come, because if you’re like me, you will forget them quickly. Write them down somewhere and then wait for the right time. You can combine a lot of different ideas, even those that don’t seem related. When you do it successfully, you can take even old, recycled ideas, and make them into something brand new, something that no one has ever read before.

That was my goal for Awaken. I took a bunch of very different and unconnected ideas, some original, some not so original, and then combined them to make them my own. Now I have a novel that starts as a traditional Western, but is pure Science Fiction once the story unfolds.

***

I want to go ahead and thank Matthew for taking the time to write us a guest post, and I hope that y'all enjoyed reading it and getting a glimpse into the thought process of another author. On Easter, I'll put up a look into my own creative process to give y'all yet another view on how things can progress in the mind of somebody telling a story.

Now, without further ado, y'all can find Matthew's new book, AWAKEN, at http://www.amazon.com/Awaken-Matthew-G-Young-ebook/dp/B00JM033DA/.

You'll also be able to connect with him over at his blog: http://matthewgyoung.wordpress.com/

And you can also interact with him through Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/MatthewGYoung

Y'all enjoy the rest of your Friday, and I wish y'all a Happy Easter.

Of Fish and Me

A couple of years ago, I got myself an aquarium. I liked the idea of having one, and I enjoyed watching the fish swimming lazily through the water. I wasn't very patient though, so there were some issues that cropped up along the way.

I feel bad about it, but I got a bit petulant with somebody at Petco where I bought the tank because they refused to sell me anything live. I had read the internet! I knew what I was doing! Oh, how I did not. If I could go back and stop myself from doing it, I would in a heartbeat. She was doing her job, and she knows much more on the subject that I do. Instead, I have to live with the fact that I was "that guy" to her on a day that probably was going okay before I walked in with my notions.

So I went home in a bad mood after buying the aquarium and some stuff, and I set it up in my living room. This was in my old apartment, so I had to carry it upstairs to get to said living room. Once I had everything set up, I decided I would be defiant, and I was going to get those fish. I went to another Petco, this time it was my local one, and got a couple of fish that were supposed to be hardy and recommended for a beginning tank owner.

My initial results weren't those of disaster, but they also weren't all that favorable. Yes,I lost fish, and I felt bad. I also had the issue of my tank getting cloudier and cloudier, and I (remember, I know this stuff from the internet!) couldn't figure out why. So I did the only thing I could think of, I fiddled with it and threw money at it.

That was the wrong solution. I needed to sit down and actually think about what was going on; really look into what could cause my issue. There were a few more casualties during this time period, and Lindsey was getting fed up with me. Things finally sorted themselves out after I did a drastic water change on it all, and it seemed to be okay sailing from there.

I still found little nuances that I was doing wrong, and I'd continue to throw money at it to fix it. I was starting to feel the frustration over all of this.

When we moved to my new apartment, I had to empty out the water from the tank and put the fish into something safe. I then had to carry it down the stairs and transport it to my new place. Setting it up again was a chore, but I had it up and running just fine after a while.

Fast forward some time, and I had my (expensive) pump that I had gotten to solve issue go out on me. That's when I basically threw in the towel and said that was it. I had been getting sick fish that died, and I was at wit's end. When the last of them had perished, I drained the tank and stashed it in the garage. This was not a popular option with Lindsey at all.

Lately, I've been finding myself wanting to have that aquarium back up and running again. Today, I decided to bring it inside and clean everything. It's currently sitting where I think it would look good, but it's going to sit there a while until we both agree on whether or not we want it up and running again.

Happy April and an Update

So I hope that nobody has had to deal with too many hardships today. This is probably my least favorite day of the year. I mean, a day that it is consider "okay" to mess with people, and in some cases, is even encouraged? No thanks. I've seen too many people get out of hand with it.

Work is coming along nicely on a couple of projects. I've got one that I'm doing for fun to help me become a better writer, and then the others you already know about. I'm hoping to be wrapping at least one of these projects up this week, but we'll see what ends up actually happening.

I also wanted to give y'all a head's up that we'll be having Matthew Young visiting with us here soon. Y'all can find a link to his blog a post or so back about my guest post I did over there. Go poke around and give him some views if you haven't already. I look forward to having him join us here.

I think that's about what I had in mind for right now. I've got some stuff lined up to try and do recurring posts on for y'all, but actually getting it written and uploaded has proven troublesome. Sometimes you get the itch to write, and other times you are kicking yourself to write just a handful of words. So annoying.

Y'all enjoy the rest of your Tuesday, and I hope that the rest of the week is great for y'all as well.

So there I was

Getting everything ready for Lindsey's smoothie. Pull out the bag of frozen mixed fruit. Add in some frozen baby spinach. Put in the teaspoon of flax seed and like a tablespoon or whatever of whey protein (I forgot the exact amount). That's when it hit me.

How do you open your banana?

Such a simple process that we go through weekly or monthly if not daily - as doctors would like us to. I always peeled my banana  by grabbing it at the stem and breaking it open. That of course did result a lot of times in just ripping that part off and having nothing to show for it except a slightly smushed banana when there had been a nice ripe one waiting to be eaten. I almost did that Sunday night when I made her first smoothie with banana in it, but I stopped myself.

What if I peeled it the other way; oh, that other dreadful way that people look at you oddly for. "Why on Earth would you do that? That's not how you do it!" I could hear them shout. I simply shrugged to myself and said, "F*** it." I grabbed the tip of the banana betwixt my forefinger and thumb, and I squeezed it until it gave up its succulent quarry.

Okay, maybe that's a bit melodramatic.Only just a bit.

Really though, how do you peel open your banana? Do you do the "standard" way of grabbing it and ripping from the stem, or do you pinch it at the tip until it splits open?

I have noticed that doing it the "pinching way" (it's totally a thing now), I get a near perfect looking banana every time....Then I tear it up with my hands and toss it into the smoothie where its torment is ended by a high-speed metal blade.

Guest Post is Up

Hop on over to http://matthewgyoung.wordpress.com/2014/03/21/guest-post-by-j-m-preiss/ to check out a guest post that I did. I look forward to Matthew coming over and returning the favor here.

This weekend, maybe Monday, I'll continue my look into the world of Halcyon Gate. I'm going to try really hard to make that a weekly thing. I just need to get better at time management...or find more hours in the day.....by figuring out how to work without sleep. :p

Book Preview - Eugenic Reprisal

I thought I'd go ahead and give y'all the first few chapters of Eugenic Reprisal to munch on if you were wondering on whether or not to get it. You can find it here on Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00HL7ERMM

I have also recently released a novelette titled The Sleeping Man that I think y'all will enjoy. You can get that here: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00IVI6DH2

Now, without further delay, here's the opening to Eugenic Reprisal.

Chapter I

Sensory deprivation, being trapped in an infinite well of darkness and silence: it is the worst feeling in the world, but even that is a fabrication of the mind and not actually a feeling.

Jacob’s consciousness floated in that darkness. He was completely alone, and he had no contact with the outside world. Time was a novel concept that held no meaning in the darkness.

Jacob had gone through this before. When he joined the Reactionary Force and been chosen for more, “they” had done things to him. He was thrust back into the first room he had entered. The water was cold, and the darkness was total. He felt panic grip his heart as he frantically searched for an exit, but all he found was unyielding metal. His panic intensified as he took his last gulp of air before the room filled up completely. His last thoughts were of Lisa. The darkness claimed him as his air finally escaped lungs.

Jacob was back in the room. He was still sitting in the chair, sweat beading along his brow. His breathing was labored, but he was breathing. Relief washed over him, but he was confused. He stared at his reflection, and it stared back at him. There was a click.

“You felt fear,” a gravelly voice stated. “You felt concern. You felt panic. You felt despair.”

“Now, you feel confused,” the voice mused. “These are basic emotions, primal emotions. They are useless.” The voice growled.

“Emotions are weakness. Survival requires action. Action requires thought. Thought requires clarity. To achieve clarity, you must cast off your weakness.”

“I don’t understand,” Jacob said quizzically.

“Understanding is not required at this juncture. You will be made to understand, but that will happen later if you are deemed able.”

Jacob felt his resolve harden. He set his jaw, sat up straight, and squared his shoulders.

“I am able,” Jacob said. “I will not fail.”

“Your pride is a weakness, and you will fail,” the voice said absently. “You have no choice in the matter. We will break you, shatter your spirit. Your resolve will falter and crumble. If we deem you able after all of this, we will rebuild you, make you stronger. By the time we are finished, you will have no equal in the normal world.”

Jacob stared at the glass and narrowed his eyes.

“If I fail?” he asked.

“Failure?” the voice responded. “You do not understand this basic point: failure is not available to you. You either survive, or you die.”

Jacob opened his mouth, but the voice spoke before he could.

“Enough words. You passed the first test. Now, we begin the real program.”

Jacob was plunged into darkness, and he lost consciousness.

His memory faded, and he arrived back at his mind in the black nothing. Other memories were bright flashes in the darkness, but each one was fleeting. Images of his parents, his home in London, Heathrow on a busy morning, Lisa’s carefree smile; nothing stayed long enough to study in any detail.

Jacob couldn’t remember why he was in the darkness. Just out of reach, the answer eluded him, but he knew it was important.

How could he forget? It was extremely important that he remember.

What was his purpose?

“Your purpose,” the gravelly voice from before started, “is to do your job.”

“I don’t understand,” Jacob heard himself say.

“Understanding is not required,” the voice explained. “In fact, the less you think about understanding it, the better you will be able to complete your mission.”

Jacob frowned. Wasn’t it important to think and understand?

“Quite the opposite,” the voice responded. “If you concern yourself with understanding, you will miss important details.”

“Doesn’t that imply understanding?” Jacob asked quizzically.

“Understanding is a hindrance. You understand how a fabricator works, and it is working properly. Is there something wrong with it?”

“You just said that it was working properly. Nothing is wrong with it.”

“Wrong,” the voice stated dryly. “Because of your complacency that is bred by your so-called understanding, you have failed to notice a small fluctuation in power. A terrorist cell is now armed and in control of the reactor.”

“But that is so unlikely as to never happen,” Jacob said.

“And that is why you would fail,” the voice shot back. “Question everything. Take nothing at face value. Never make assumptions. You no longer have the luxury.”

Jacob sighed.

“How will I know if I have the complete picture?”

“When the remaining questions are irrelevant,” the voice responded.

The conversation continued, but the voices quickly faded into nothing.

Once more, Jacob floated alone in the darkness, the only being in existence.

His thoughts turned to what he needed to know. He was with someone else, a friend. They were more than friends. No, theirs was something words could barely describe. Brotherhood.

“Lieutenant,” a voice said from behind Jacob.

Jacob spun around and snapped a salute.

“Captain.”

“At ease,” the man said. “I’m retired, LT. No need for the ceremony.”

“If it’s all the same, sir, you’ve earned the ceremony more than most.”

“Is that so?” the man asked as he crossed his arms.

“Yes, sir. You served with honor and distinction throughout your career in the RF. You quickly rose to the rank of Captain where you remained, by choice, until you suffered severe injuries in the line of duty and were given the option to muster out with full benefits due the rank of Colonel, but you refused the promotion to remain at the rank of Captain. Nobody living has given more,” Jacob finished.

The man scratched at the stubble on his chin absent-mindedly with his left hand. He dropped it back to his side.

“I supposed you’re right, LT.”

“Please, sir, you can simply call me Jacob.”

“In that case, Jacob,” the man said as he stretched his left hand and reached out with his right, “call me Mason.”

Chapter II

The memory of meeting Mason moved away as quickly as it had arrived leaving Jacob alone once again. His mind started to wander, and more glimpses of the past flew by him at ever increasing speed.

Surrounded by a cacophony of memories, Jacob found himself lost. He rode along a wave of emotions that he had not felt since he completed his training. He truly felt his love of Lisa for the first time in years, and like a door slamming shut, his emotions were cut off as he reached the memories of his training. The grueling regimen had broken his spirit, and he was less than a broken man.

They had rebuilt him, gave him a purpose. His purpose in life was to complete his mission. That is why he had been chosen for Halcyon.

“Ah, Mr. Brown,” Doctor Jenkins started, “I’m glad to see that you and Mr. Smith have safely made it.”

Jacob nodded as he and Mason sat down on the other side of the doctor’s desk.

“I know that you haven’t been told all that much about the project that we’ve asked you to come here for, and I’m really sorry about that,” Jenkins said. “I’m sure you can understand the amount of secrecy we are working under right now. By no means is this going to remain a top secret project forever, but we don’t want information being released before we are ready to release it.”

“Understood, Doctor Jenkins,” Jacob responded.

“That’s what I’m used to, Doc,” Mason agreed.

“And we all appreciate that, Mr. Smith,” Doctor Jenkins said as he nodded. “Now, I’m sure that you have at least been told why you are here.”

They both nodded.

“Good. So,” he started and let out a breath. “Where would be best for me to begin? Well, I guess that the beginning would be the best.”

Pressing an icon on his desktop, he turned his chair around and looked at the wall where an image sprang to life. The image was that of a timeline with all of the major occurrences in the past two hundred years notated.

“Obviously, this is what our past looks like from the end of the 19^th century on. The major wars, the economic turmoil, everything,” Doctor Jenkins scratched his chin as he continued.

“Time is something that we have always considered to be moving in a singular direction. It can move at different rates due to the theories of Einstein, but it always moves forward. That being the case, the concept of a time machine capable of travel back in time is a pipe dream. That is, of course, until a discovery we made last year.”

“Excuse me, Doc?” Mason asked. “Are you saying that Einstein is wrong?”

Doctor Jenkins coughed. “Not as such, no.”

“All of our understanding of his theory says that it is impossible because of Causality. The effect cannot precede the cause. This being the case, if you were to travel back in time, you would be creating a paradox.”

“What are you getting at, Doctor Jenkins?” Jacob leaned forward.

“Our mathematicians and theoretical physicists have managed to find a loophole in Einstein’s theories. We’re working on the very fringe of our understanding, but with some of the new information discovered in the new collider we have at Einstein, we were able to connect some dots.”

Mason scratched his nose. “I don’t follow.”

“You’re familiar with the concept of wormholes?” Doctor Jenkins tapped another icon, and the screen switched to an image of a graphed wormhole solution.

“Well, I think so.” Mason squinted at the image.

“Basically that you can connect two points in space together at the same time, right, Doctor?”

“Correct, Mr. Brown,” Doctor Jenkins replied. He tapped another icon. The graph was replaced with a dense mass of math.

“What you are looking at is a masterpiece.” Doctor Jenkins grinned.

“Pardon my bluntness, but that’s just a bunch of letters and squiggly lines,” Mason said as his eyes glazed over.

Doctor Jenkins frowned.

“While it may look like that, Mr. Smith, I assure you it is more than that. Quite a lot more, actually.”

“Put simply,” the doctor began, “this is time-travel. Not just to the future, oh no, this beauty, gentlemen, lets us go to any time anywhere.”

“Impossible,” Jacob whispered.

“I second that,” Mason said as he leaned back in his chair. “You said so yourself not five minutes ago.”

“Ah, but that’s just it,” Doctor Jenkins said. “When we activate Halcyon-“

“Activate what?” Mason blinked.

“What? Oh. Right.” Doctor Jenkins turned a tad red in the cheeks. “I’m getting way ahead of myself.”

Jacob shifted in his chair as he stared at the math in front of him. It very well could’ve been written in old Gaelic for all he could tell.

“At its most basic level,” Doctor Jenkins said as he switched the image again, “Halcyon will be a gateway to unimaginable knowledge. Imagine going through that gate and seeing the first humans walk across the savannahs of Africa, or perhaps you wish to visit the fall of Rome or witness the depravity of Emperor Nero first hand. We can do that with Halcyon.”

Mason worked his mouth for a few seconds.

“No offense, Doc, but this sounds like a bad series of movies,” he said after he had collected his thoughts.

“Not to be rude,” Jacob started, “but I have to agree with Mason on this.”

Doctor Jenkins looked crestfallen.

Mason sighed and rubbed his brow with his left hand.

“Ok, Doc, what do you need us for?” Mason asked.

Doctor Jenkins cleared his throat.

“Right, well,” he stammered for a bit. “You and the Lieutenant are going to be the first to go through.”

“That’s not all that-“Mason stopped midsentence.

“Isn’t that putting the cart before the horse, Doctor Jenkins?” Jacob asked. “You said this is all cutting edge. Has any of this even been tested?”

“Ah not as such, Mr. Brown,” Doctor Jenkins replied. “The first test will be taking place later this month.”

He brought up a series of pictures and blueprints.

“The primary facility is a year or two away from being completed, but the tests we need to do first don’t require that facility.”

“That’s great and all, Doc, but what exactly do you want us to do?” Mason asked. “Need I remind you that I am retired? I’m enjoying that retirement.”

Doctor Jenkins sighed and brought out two large document envelopes. They were addressed one each to Mason and Jacob.

“As of today, Captain, you are reactivated and assigned to Halcyon. I am told that you can talk to the higher ups, but please give this a chance. You are highly qualified and second only to Mr. Brown according to our databases.”

Doctor Jenkins turned to Jacob as Mason steamed beneath his eyebrows.

“As I alluded to when addressing the Captain, Mr. Brown, you are our number one choice for this project.”

“On what criteria did this decision get based on?” Jacob asked as he looked over his paperwork.

“All of them, of course,” Doctor Jenkins replied. “We put all of the available databases into our algorithm. Your name and Mr. Smith’s were the ones that were chosen.”

“Rest assured, Doc,” Mason began, “I am going to take this up with the brass.”

“That is your prerogative,” Doctor Jenkins responded. “Please give us a chance, Mr. Smith. This work is beyond groundbreaking.”

Mason mumbled something under his breath as Jacob asked Doctor Jenkins another question.

The memory faded into darkness, and Jacob thought about what Doctor Jenkins had said.

Ground breaking.

Chapter III

“Jacob,” Mason screamed into the darkness. “Where are you?”

He turned all around, but everything was black. It was all silent.

“Mason,” a female voice said from behind.

Mason spun around, and he was face-to-face with a beautiful redhead. She had a simple sundress on, and her hair was cut chin lengthy and styled to frame her fair, freckled face.

“Uh, hi,” he felt himself squeak.

The girl giggled.

“You’re cute,” she stated.

Mason felt himself blush.

“My parents said that I’d find you here in the atrium.”

“Your parents?” Mason asked.

"That’s what I said,” she stated as she put her hands on her hips and frowned.

Mason blinked a few times.

“You weren’t told about me?” She pouted.

“I can’t say that I was,” Mason said as he stared at the ground.

“Oh,” she said quietly. "Well, that’s okay!”

She bounced closer and curtsied in front of him.

“My name is Jessica Graves. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mason.”

Mason managed a sheepish grin.

“Hi, Jessica,” he said.

“You seem very surprised,” Jessica said. “Were you not expecting me?”

“Expecting you? Uh,” Mason shook his head “Can’t say that I was.”

“Silly,” Jessica giggled. “I’m going to be your wife!”

“Wife?” Mason looked startled.

His mind raced, and he fainted.

When Mason woke up, he was lying on a couch in a plushly decorated room. The couch was made of fine velvet, and the carpet was a thick weave that was so soft you left footprints. The walls were lightly stained walnut, and the paneling was broken up by occasional paintings that had to have been from the Renaissance. In an alcove behind him, there was a low bench in front of a statue of Mary and Joseph.

There was a knock on the door.

“Mason? Are you ready?”

Mason looked up at the sound of the deep voice. He blinked a few times to clear the last of the cobwebs from his mind.

“Yeah, Dad,” Mason called. “You can come on in. I was just taking a breather.”

The door cracked open, and a balding head peered in. His father pushed the door open all the way and walked in.

“Now isn’t the time to be napping, my boy,” Mason’s dad said as he strode over to a coat rack. “Today is your big day!”

Mason felt confusion as he stood and walked over to his father.

“Yeah, I know,” he felt himself say, but he couldn’t remember what was happening.

“You should see Jessica,” his father said as he helped Mason into the hanging tuxedo jacket. “She looks absolutely amazing. Your mother and I are so happy for you.”

Mason pulled the jacket around him and stretched.

“You know,” his father began, “I was only 18 when I married your mother as well.”

Mason felt realization wash over him.

“How did you know you were in love with Mom,” Mason asked.

His dad laughed.

“The moment I first laid eyes on her,” he said. “Do you love Jessica, Mason?”

“Yes,” Mason responded. “Well, at least, I think I do. I hope I do.”

“What has you thinking like this,” his dad asked as he sat on the couch and motioned for Mason to join him.

“It’s just been on my mind all week, Dad.” Mason sat next to his father and sighed. “You found mom, and it was the mutual love that you both felt that brought the two of you together. Where does that leave Jessica and me?”

“Well,” his father began before stopping again. He scratched the hollow of his right cheek in thought.

“I supposed I can understand your apprehension,” he finally answered. “This marriage between you and Jessica is just the new shape of things. Even at that, it isn’t new in some parts of the world.”

“It feels wrong,” Mason muttered.

“Won’t argue with that,” his father sighed. “But this is how it is now. Marriage is very much a legal contract more than anything else. You didn’t have any say in it, but Jessica didn’t either.”

Mason shook his head.

“I know, Mason, but think of what all we are getting. Wealth is no longer a concern, but the Graves family is very well known. There is much prestige in joining that family.”

“I guess,” Mason said in defeat. “I just don’t want to hurt her.”

His dad stood up, looked at him, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“And that is why you won’t,” his dad said with a smile.

“Smith!”

Mason shook his head in shock, and he tried to gain focus on his surroundings.

He was in a large room with subdued, grey walls. The floor was polished black. Around him in neat ranks were other people standing rigid, face and eyes unmoving.

“Smith!”

“What,” he replied.

“What is not an acceptable response, recruit,” said a main that appeared in front of Mason, seemingly out of thin air. “Any response will either begin with sir, or it will simply be sir.”

“Sir,” Mason responded.

“Good,” the man said. He ran a skeletal looking left hand over his finely shaved scalp. It lingered for a moment over a shiny metal plate that was over his left ear. “Now, no more zoning out, ya hear?”

“Sir. Yes, sir,” the assembled group responded.

“Alright. Now, that’s the response I like to hear.” The man began pacing in front of the group. Every other step, his right foot would loudly impact the floor. The impacts echoed about the room.

“Welcome to the Reactionary Forces, ladies and gentlemen. Each and every one of you has some idyllic view of how you are going to make a difference. I, on the other hand, have the view that you are only going to hurt the people standing around you if you continue to subscribe to such foolish notions.”

The man stopped and glared at the person next to Mason.

“Know the truth? We don’t need you! Leave now! The crying shame of it all is that we have to let you in.”

He sighed and began pacing again.

“This world is very different from the one not even a century past. For once, you are allowed to do whatever you wish. Hell, even underwater basket weaving is now viable.”

He looked over the crowd.

“Some of you will quit. There is nothing wrong with that, but some of you will be too stubborn to quit. The remainder of you will do what you deem to be your civic duty and muster out before you even begin thinking about having a mid-life crisis.”

He looked right at Mason.

“But those of you that are too stubborn to quit will make a difference. Some will get wrapped up in a very bad real estate deal, but all will never be forgotten.”

Looking at his left hand, he opened and closed his fist a few times before continuing.

“I’m up here to level with you. I shouldn’t be up here. I was one of the people that never should have enlisted, but I had no choice back then. What you see before you is no dog and pony show. This is the reality of the world. I was badly wounded in the field; put a down payment on some property. One of the stubborn ones, though, wasn’t going to let me quit. His stubbornness saved my life, but my ideals cost him his. My best friend, my brother, took the shot that was meant for me. He stepped in and gave me another chance by sacrificing his own.”

Mason blinked back tears at the thought.

“I made that decision that day to take his place. I became too stubborn to quit. I’ve added to my down payment, but I will never stop.”

The man sighed and looked at the ground for a bit before looking back up, a renewed fire in his eyes.

“People die. People get hurt. It is our job to step in front of harm and take the shot meant for an innocent. The world has come a long way in the last fifty years, but it is still a deadly place. Welcome to your new life, recruits. Welcome to making a difference. Fall out!”

Heels clicked together, and salutes were given.

“Ah, Mr. Smith, good,” a familiar voice said.

“General,” Mason said as he shot up and saluted. His mind was fuzzy, but clarity quickly took over.

“At ease,” the man said as he returned the salute. “It is a unique privilege I get when I see a person twice for similar reasons such as this. Five years ago, I wouldn’t have picked you for officer.”

“Nor I, sir,” Mason said as he relaxed a little. “I must admit that your prosthetic choice was most enlightening. Part of me wanted to quit on the spot.”

“But you didn’t,” the general said as he started walking down the corridor. He motioned for Mason to fall in step with him. “It takes a rare man to do that was far as I’m concerned. You’ve seen more than your share of action, Mr. Smith. Sydney was particularly hairy to my understanding.”

“Yes, sir, but my squad did their job. The terrorists were thwarted,” Mason said.

“Indeed they were, and you did it without your lieutenant, did his job even. That’s why you are here today. It’s obvious you’re ready for the next step. Want a platoon?” the general asked as he looked at Mason.

“If I am deemed capable, sir.”

“You have the raw aptitude,” he said. “These next few months will determine if that can be honed.”

“It can, sir,” Mason said with confidence.

“We’ll see in due time, Mr. Smith. Don’t let me down now that you have me believing in you.”

“I’m too stubborn for that, sir.”

“Dammit, Mason! Pay attention to me,” Jessica screamed.

“What?” Mason shook his head.

“It’s time!”

“Time for what?” Mason blinked a few times.

Jessica slapped Mason hard.

“Snap out of it! Get the bag, and let’s go!”

“I, uh, right,” Mason said. “The bag.”

He fumbled around the apartment looking for the bag of clothes. The bag of clothes that had been kept ready for two weeks for when it was time for the baby to arrive.

The baby.

“The baby’s here?”

“Not yet,” Jessica growled. “She will be if you sit around much longer though.”

“Right,” Mason said as he picked up the bag. “Lead the way.”

Jessica growled as she walked out the door. Mason jogged to catch up to her. He was treated to the same beautiful view he saw every morning.

His apartment door faced east, so the entire walkway looked over the Atlantic. The skies were crystal clear, and the water was calm. The Sun glistened off of nearby buildings.

Mason followed Jessica into one of the main lifts, and they were whisked away to the medical level of their hab complex.

After about a minute of travel, they exited the lift onto the medical level. They were so far down that only artificial light cut through the darkness outside the windows.

“Ah, Mrs. Smith,” a nurse said from behind the counter they walked up to. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

“It’s time, Marcy,” Jessica said.

“So it is,” Marcy exclaimed. She hit a few buttons and spoke into a microphone. “Chair to waiting three.”

“Captain Smith,” a voice said from behind Mason.

Mason spun around and prepared to salute.

“Oh,” he said as he saw the young doctor standing behind him. “Nice to see you again, Doctor Evans.”

“So today is the day, huh?” Doctor Evans asked.

“Seems so,” Mason said as he looked around for the wheelchair that should have already been there.

“Well, word of advice? Don’t get too stressed.”

“Impossible, doc, but I’ll see what I can do,” Mason said as he leaned to try and look around corners.

“Ha. Well, just remember that she is the one actually giving birth, and last I heard, she doesn’t take orders from you.”

Mason sighed and nodded.

“Good,” Doctor Evans said. “And remember, Captain Smith, it’s Adam,” Doctor Evans said as he clapped Mason on the shoulder and walked away.

“Don’t forget about our appointment next Tuesday,” he called as he rounded a nearby corner.

“Mason! What are you doing,” Jessica yelled from her wheelchair as she was wheeled towards the delivery ward.

“Wha-. Coming,” Mason said as he trotted after her.

He smiled as he thought about getting to meet his new baby girl.

“Not much longer, Marlene,” he said as he caught up with his wife. “You doing okay?”

“Shut up and fall in step, soldier,” Jessica growled. “Just be there and only speak if spoken to. This isn’t exactly a pleasant feeling.”

Mason sighed and shook his head. Same old Jessica, he thought.

“Captain Smith? Can you hear me, Captain,” a nasally voice asked.

Mason’s mind was foggy. He groaned.

“Doctor Evans,” the voice called. “He’s coming around.”

Mason tried to move, but he was immobilized from the neck down. He couldn’t remember what had happened, and he certainly had no idea why he was here.

“Where,” he started, but his mouth and throat were beyond parched. His voice was a mere croak.

“Shh,” a familiar voice said. “You need to refrain from talking, Captain. You’ve been through a lot. Nurse, can you get Captain Smith some water? Ice chips only.”

“Yes, Doctor,” the nasally voice said.

Mason tried to open his eyes, but he was unable to feel them to make them work. He started to panic. The beeping of the heart monitor increased with his pulse.

“Calm down, Captain. Everything is okay,” the familiar voice said. “You are okay. We have you immobilized for your safety.”

The nurse returned to the room, and Mason heard her place a cup on something near him.

“Open,” she said beside him.

He opened his mouth and felt cold pieces of ice drop into his mouth. He worked his mouth and tongue as the ice melted. After a few more ice chips, he felt good enough to try talking.

“Where,” Mason started, but he was cut off by his voice cracking. He cleared his throat to try again.

“Where am I?” he managed after some effort.

“You are on medical floor five, ICU ward three. We are in your hab complex,” the familiar voice said. “It was pretty harrowing for a while there, Captain. We were afraid we were going to lose you.”

“I’m – I can’t remember anything,” Mason said. “I’m stuck in a fog. I can’t move or see.”

“That’s our doing, Captain. I assure you, everything functions normally.”

“What happened,” Mason asked.

“That’s a long story, Captain Smith. We can save that for a little later. For now, let’s see about bringing your mind and body back up to speed,” the voice said.

“Sounds good, uh –“

“Doctor Evans.”

“Doctor Evans,” Mason echoed. “It’s good to hear your voice, doc.”

“It’s good to see you awake, Captain.”

Mason grunted.

“Okay, Captain,” Doctor Evans said. “We’re going to take the neural inhibitors offline. You’ll regain your senses, and your mind will clear up. We’re going to leave the immobilizer online for your safety. There will be some discomfort.

Mason grunted again.

“Okay, Nurse Ried, slowly take them offline.”

Mason felt his mind clear. He breathed a sigh of relief, but he inhaled quickly when he was hit by the first wave of searing pain. His left side felt like it was on fire.

“It’s okay, Captain. It will subside as your mind takes back over,” Doctor Evans said.

After a few minutes of intense pain, it began to subside and become bearable.

“Only some discomfort, doc? I don’t want to know what you consider actual pain,” Mason panted.

“No, you don’t” Adam responded. “Can you remember anything now?”

Mason ran through his mind a few times. He vaguely recalled kissing Jessica and Marlene as he rushed out this morning. “I only remember this morning,” he said. “I can’t recall anything else.”

Doctor Evans sighed heavily.

“What you recall didn’t happen this morning. I don’t know how best to say this.”

Mason heard the concern in his voice.

“Just lay it on me, doc.”

“It’s been two months, Captain,” Doctor Evans said.

Two months.

“What happened? Where is my girl? Where’s Jessica? Why isn’t she here?”

“Shh,” Doctor Evans said. “They are both just fine. They’re in the apartment. When you started waking up, we notified them. They should be here soon.”

“My eyes,” Mason said. “Let me open my eyes. I want to be able to see when they get here.”

“Okay,” Doctor Evans said. “Just be sure to stay calm.”

“Do it, doc. I’m tired of the dark,” Mason said.

Mason felt an electric buzz rush through his body, and his vision came to life. The light filtered through his eyelids. He winced as he ran through lightly stretching his legs, feet, arms, and hands. Something was wrong. He didn’t feel his left arm or leg. He tried to move them, but there was nothing. Nothing.

Mason snapped his eyes open and quickly looked to his left arm; at least, his arm should’ve been there.

“No, Captain Smith, try and relax a little,” Mason heard Doctor Evans say over the rapid beeping of the heart monitor.

“Where’s my arm? Where’s my leg? Where are they, doc?” Mason pleaded with ever growing concern.

“You sustained heavy injuries on your mission,” Adam responded. “We were lucky to save you in time. The majority of your company wasn’t so lucky.”

“I don’t understand,” Mason whispered.

“I know,” Doctor Evans started to say.

“Mason,” Jessica screamed as she rushed into the room. “Oh my God. You’re awake. You’re okay,” she said as she knelt by his side. Marlene ran up beside her and threw herself on the bed.

“Daddy,” she screamed.

Mason couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m alright, baby girl,” he said. “Daddy is okay.”

“I’ll give you some privacy,” Doctor Evans said. “Don’t worry though, Captain. We got the cores for your cybernetic prosthetics installed while you were in a coma. We can begin physical therapy as soon as you want,” he said.

“Thank you, Adam,” Jessica said with tears in her eyes.

Doctor Evans smiled and walked out of the room.

“We missed you, daddy,” Marlene said.

“I know, little one,” Mason said. “I’m here now. It’s all going to be okay.”

“Mason,” Jessica began.

“Mason, thank God you’re okay,” an old voice said at the doorway.

“Mr. Graves,” Mason said. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

“And yours, my boy,” Mr. Graves said. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

“Do we have to do this now, father?” Jessica asked. “He just woke up, and anyways, you know that I don’t agree with it one bit.”

“What’s going on, Mommy,” Marlene asked.

“It’s okay, baby,” Jessica said. “It’s just grown up talk.”

“What’s the bad news, Mr. Graves?” Mason asked cautiously.

Mr. Graves pulled a large envelope out from an inner pocket.

“Mason,” Mr. Graves started,” I’m afraid that the injuries you sustained include one that constitutes breach of contract. I’m sorry, my boy, but your marriage to my daughter is officially terminated,” Mr. Graves said as he laid the envelope in front of Mason, turned around, then walked out the door.

“Is this,” Mason asked as his eyes filled with tears.

“It is,” Jessica said as she choked back a sob. “I don’t want to do it, but my father isn’t budging on the matter. We don’t have a choice.”

“What did Granpa Graves mean,” Marlene asked with a puzzled look on her face.

Jessica sobbed as she hugged Marlene and Mason close.

“It means mommy and daddy can’t be together anymore,” she managed to say.

Mason couldn’t find any words. He simply cried and held the loves of his life, his whole world that was shattering before his eyes, with his right arm.

The world wasn’t fair.

Mason felt confusion. It felt like he was speeding through his life, and none of it made sense. The feeling of loss from his divorce cut through him.

It made the retirement unbearable. He could still be active duty, but the powers that be, his mentor and friend General Franks especially, had forced him onto reserve duty during his physical therapy and recovery.

After the months on reserve duty, General Franks convinced Mason to retire.

“You’ve earned it,” he had said. “Take time for yourself, as much as you need.”

“Time,” Mason muttered as he splashed water on his face. “This retirement is going to kill me.”

He finished shaving and wiped his face off after washing it. Unceremoniously stuffing the hand towel between the towel bar and wall, he stood up straight and looked at his chest. There was a jagged scar starting just left of his left pectoral. He felt along it with his right hand, slowly tracing each branch and ridge.

After everything had been installed and verified to be successfully integrated, the doctors said they could remove the scarring. Mason chose to keep the scars as a reminder, an apparent one, of what he had gone through. It couldn’t match the emotional pain he felt.

Sighing, Mason opened the access panel for his left arm. Looking over the indicators, he decided everything was okay and closed it back up. He flexed his hands as he held them in front of his face.

“I’m a walking dichotomy,” Mason said to the air. “Life and death in some kind of perverted harmony.”

He sighed again and let his arms fall to his sides. Shrugging into the shirt he had hanging over the bar for the shower curtain, Mason walked through his small bedroom and into the living space of his unit.

He flipped on the TV in preparation for another day of nothing. Before he could get settled on his couch, his communication panel started beeping.

Mason grumbled and activated it as he sat down.

“Mason,” he said.

“Captain,” General Franks said as his picture snapped to life. “I trust that retirement is working for you.”

“Far from it, sir, but I make do,” he said.

Frowning, the general said, “Well, I think I can understand. You know this is for your own good.”

“Sir, you and I both know the docs are full of it.”

“While I agree as a brother-in-arms, even I must bow to their judgment,” General Franks said with a sigh. “I know it’s been two-“

“Three.”

“That long already? Okay, three years since New York. The doctors aren’t budging on their assessment. The tests they do still say your psyche can’t handle the stress of potential combat again. They want to keep you safe, Captain,” Franks sighed.

“Beg your pardon, sir, but you know as well as I that this is worse than what I could face out there.”

“That’s why I’m contact you today, Captain.” The general leaned forward. “I don’t have the power to reactivate you, the rest of the brass would have to be onboard, but I can pull some strings elsewhere.”

“You have my attention, sir.”

“I’ve been contacted by some scientists at Einstein. They’ve been working on some new stuff, as they always are, and something has come across my desk that has caught my attention.” The general scratched his chin. “They’re eventually going to be needing personnel for what they plan, so I brokered a deal with the lead researcher. They need two people for what they plan, so the deal is I get to pick one. He picks the other.”

“Let me guess,” Mason said.

“Yeah,” Franks responded. “You’re my choice, Captain. Pack your bags. Transport leaves tomorrow.”

“Sir,” Mason asked. “What about the rest of command?”

“Well, Captain, you’re technically still retired. They can’t do anything about it.”

“Thank you, sir,” Mason said as he smiled for the first time in ages.

“It’s the least I can do, Captain. The other candidate that was chosen is a hard one, as a heads up. I’ll send you the dossier when you’re en route, but there isn’t much to it. There are a lot of black lines.”

“SpecOps?”

“Looks like,” Franks replied. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Captain. Your itinerary will be transmitted shortly. Franks, out.”

The screen switched to stand-by as the connection was terminated.

Mason leaned back and intertwined his fingers behind his head.

“I finally have purpose again,” he said as he smiled.

For the first time in three years, his injuries and loss were the last things on his mind.